the louts we
have about us durst not venture thither. Indeed I think it may be
prudent to go unattended on several accounts."

"That is my opinion," said Pilkington; "and as for poking out the way,
I can do that readily. I cannot rest without making the attempt, at
any rate."

"Let us not create any alarm, but steal quietly off when we have
refreshed ourselves," said Mortimer; "we need not tell them of our
intent."

"It were best," replied Pilkington, "that we give these knaves a
caution first that they bruit not forth the adventure at present, or
until we have more exact information as to the nature of the
proceedings it may be needful to adopt."

It was not long ere they commenced their journey, traversing the
hill-path in the requisite direction. By day, the pillars are easily
seen from some parts of the valley below, and Pilkington had
frequently passed them in crossing the moors. A pretty accurate notion
of their bearing was thus formed from the point whence they started.

The greater part of the way was trodden in silence. The rivulets were
swollen with the heavy rains, and great care was necessary to attain
their object in safety. The path was not devoid of danger at any time,
by reason of the spongy and uncertain nature of the bogs, accumulated
masses of spumous unhealthy vegetation, showing patches of bright
green verdure, holding water often to an unknown depth, and sometimes
proving fatal to those who dare to venture upon this deceitful and
perilous surface. By using great caution, and carefully ascertaining
the nature of the ground before them, they passed on, without further
inconvenience than that of wading through bogs and ditches, climbing
stone-walls and embankments, aided by the uninterrupted light of a
blazing harvest-moon.

They had now accomplished the most fatiguing part of the ascent, the
dark heathery crown of the mountain, whereon the moonbeams lay so
beautiful, as though nature were one vast region of universal
silence, for ever unbroken and undisturbed. It was like gazing on a
statue--there was the semblance of life, but all was silent and
motionless, the very stillness startling like a spectre.

Soon they had passed through the creaking heather-bushes on the
summit, when they saw two rude pillars peeping up from the dark line
of the horizon before them. A sensation, not unallied to fear, passed
with a sudden thrill across the deep, unseen sources of feeling--the
sealed fountains of